


On Your Cue

by Timpini



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Billiards Sex, M/M, Married Couple, Oral Sex, Post-Canon, Strip Games, Stripping, fun fact that is not a tag and i am the first to use it, goro has complex feelings even years later and akira is a nice husband., theyre married and its their anniversary and they play a game, yeehaw boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:22:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26261836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timpini/pseuds/Timpini
Summary: “Remember last month when you made me cook naked in nothing but an apron?” Akira cocks his eyebrows up and pushes himself further on the side of the counter. Goro looks at him unimpressed.“Yes? What about it?” Akira doesn’t say anything. Instead, his gaze is leveled and his lips pout. His eyes flicker to the billiards table and back to Goro. Goro squints at him, calculating.“You’re not serious.” He couldn’t honestly mean he wanted Goro to strip. Here of all places?“What? Backin’ down from a challenge?” There’s such a smug aura coming from Akira that it makes Goro scoff.Or Post Game Royal fanfic involving husbands playing a game of billiards on their anniversary.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 18
Kudos: 229
Collections: 21 plus akeshuake server events





	On Your Cue

**Author's Note:**

> I had no idea how to describe half the events happening in this fanfic because I haven't played pool in forever and I know there are most likely incosistencies in this whole thing but I have to convince y'all that this was even realistic and that is hard ENOUGH C'MON NOW
> 
> Enjoy
> 
> Here is the art that accompanies this fic in the minibang, brought to you by YuaXIII! Twitter post: https://twitter.com/YuaXIIINSFW/status/1301599064602091520?s=20

Goro blows into his hands and lets the fabric covering his palms warm from his exhale. The February air still holds a horrible chill, and Goro feels even if he’s wrapped up in his coat and scarf that the wind is still cutting him bone deep. Next to him, Akira is close, hands shoved into his pockets and posture horrible. Goro ‘tchs’, but doesn’t chastise him, knowing it will fall on deaf ears. If anything, he’d probably slouch more. 

Akira insisted he had something he wanted them to do, and was currently dragging Goro along Kijijoji’s dimly lit streets. Goro was skeptical and pressed until Akira finally caved and gave a simple sentence on what was the plan. It was their anniversary, a whole year of being married. There’s a dryness in Goro’s throat that comes with the thought. It’s mostly from disbelief. 

Part of him still feels like he’s in a haze, that none of this can be real. Goro struggles with the idea that even after everything that’s happened, he’s been able to obtain happiness like this. Perhaps Dr. Maruki’s world is still ongoing despite their efforts, and one day he’ll wake up. Or worse, he’ll wish for a life he wasn’t destined to have. A life that could be taken from him at any moment. A heartbeat, and then two, and Goro does his best to not to gnaw on the edge of his lip. Something to distract and ground him.

That’s his fears talking though. Even now, Goro has a keen mind, and there are flickers of imperfections in his life that show it isn’t the result of actualization. He has struggled to find a job after serving his time in juvenile detention, to get a new apartment that didn’t have walls nearly suffocating him from memories of another time, or when Akira can’t see eye to eye with him which leads to a disagreement. 

No matter what though, Goro wouldn’t give this up. He feels his nails trying to pierce through his gloves while his fingers curl harshly into his palm. 

They had finally come to their destination. The stairs rising up into a small alcove. It had been so easy to nearly miss, considering the lights were all turned off. Akira’s hands were suddenly running down his wrist to meet his, and intertwining their fingers together. They pushed past the darkness of the stairway. 

The lights turned on and Goro had to blink against the brightness. Not much of the place has changed. The neon lights flicker with effort and there’s a small hum as they run. It turns the place into casts of white and blue. Goro lets out a huff.

“I still can’t believe you rented this place for our anniversary.” 

“What better way to celebrate our anniversary then where we had our first date.” There's humor there and Goro’s face turns down. _Their first date?_

No…no their first date was when Akira had invited him after an awkward moment of first kisses that contained too much bite around two months after he was a free man. The next day, Akira had suggested they go to the nearby park. Goro remembers because, while walking, the temperature was entirely too hot and he was forced to wear a scarf to hide the blooming bruises along his collarbone from the night prior. Akira’s eyes had flickered to it throughout their conversations and at one point, had caused him to nearly trip over the sidewalk. Goro said nothing, opting to let his punishment of karma be enough. 

So then, why did Akira say that was their first? Unless…

“You can’t possibly be referring to—when I challenged you to beat me?” Goro’s mind is trying to rack through when they last came here. That was the only time since. “You consider _that_ our first date?” Normally, he strives to not consider the first year of knowing Akira. Long ago when his ambitions were tainted with a false justice. The one that lead him to Akira in all the wrong ways, only to wish for his inevitable downfall. 

“You don’t?” The light feeling his voice carries, carefree and unaware, makes Goro huff. His face scowls. 

“No.” It’s said, deadpan and monotone. Akira snorts and walks over to the corner of the place where the jukebox is. He begins to fiddle with the selection.

“Tragic. I liked it a lot.” It’s honest, at the least. 

“I have no idea why.” 

“The view was nice.” There’s a sound in Akira’s nose that puffs out. Goro’s brow furrows. 

“Pardon?” Goro inquires. Humor, Goro figured out, was in Akira’s voice. 

“Nothing.” Very quick, and all amusement gone from his voice. “That’s where I started to really wonder…who you were. Despite it all.” Akira’s voice dropped a few beats. He was letting the moment pass. 

Goro didn’t have a chance to comment. The jukebox finally kicked to life and Akira’s choice of music filled the empty space with a slow tune. 

**_I’ll be seeing you._ **The lazy piano and soft jazz sound old and worn. 

**_In all the old familiar places._ ** Akira turns to him, the edges of his cheeks are dusted with a pink that would otherwise be completely unnoticeable to anyone else. Hell, even Goro thinks it was a trick of his eyes with these harsh lights, until he notices Akira raising a hand up to his fringe. His thumb and forefinger rolling the strands between them. _His nervous habit._

**_That this heart of mine embraces._ **Akira lets the hand fall and shoves it into his pocket. His posture begins to slouch as he walks back towards Goro. 

**_All day through._ **Despite all the body language, Akira’s eyes never leave his. Steel gray meeting a chestnut brown swirling with warmth. 

**_In the small cafe, the park across the way._ **Akira takes a breath and his eyes crinkle at the corners, gaze still right on him. Like he’s seeing something that’s….Goro doesn’t want to finish the thought because something in his chest aches. 

“Is this okay?” As if Goro’s opinion matters, as if it would change the fact that Goro was fine with _whatever_ he usually picked. 

“Yes.” Normally, Goro would berate him a bit more. However, the way Akira’s body is tense and nervous, it’s…endearing. As soon as Goro confirms it, Akira sighs while his body uncoils and is suddenly confident again. The rosy coloring to his cheeks disappear in the sickeningly bright overhead lights.

“Great.” He reaches up and brushes some of Goro’s fallen hair behind his ear. Akira lets his body fall back towards the bar and leans on it. A cocky attitude beginning to bloom. The telltale sign that whatever Akira is thinking, Goro knows it’s stupid. 

“Remember last month when you made me cook naked in nothing but an apron?” Akira cocks his eyebrows up and pushes himself further on the side of the counter. Goro looks at him unimpressed. 

“Yes? What about it?” Akira doesn’t say anything. Instead, his gaze is leveled and his lips pout. His eyes flicker to the billiards table and back to Goro. Goro squints at him, calculating. 

“You’re not serious.” He couldn’t honestly mean he wanted Goro to strip. _Here_ of all places? 

“What? Backin’ down from a challenge?” There’s such a smug aura coming from Akira that it makes Goro scoff. 

“Of course not.” Goro’s own eyes flicker now in a brief moment of doubt. Akira did…rent the entire place for them. Granted, he had to pull some strings but since he knows the owner, he was able to get it. _Does that mean this was his intention the whole time? “_ And then what?” 

Akira hums in thought, his hand coming up to cup his chin as he overly demonstrated his pondering. Goro clicks his tongue. 

“I bet…” There’s a mischievous quality to it. _Oh no._ “You can’t play billiards naked.” 

“Really? That’s it?” 

“Oh there will be distractions.” Akira’s eyes are closed, but he’s nodding more to himself. The gears in his head are turning and Gore thinks if he keeps this up, maybe Akira will smoke. Once his eyes open, Akira’s face has a lopsided grin on it that’s almost cheshire. Goro groans and reaches for his coat.

“Fine then.” His fingers don’t hesitate in unbuttoning his coat and shrugging it off his shoulders. Akira’s eyes follow the movement and Goro lets his own smirk come to his face. 

“You’ll have to be patient though. I’d _hate_ for these to get wrinkled.” Goro turns and makes a show of laying his coat on one of the nearby tables for guests to eat at, and begins to carefully fold it. Akira lets out an indignant noise.

“Petty much?” Akira moves himself away from the bar to the billiards table nearby. He resumes leaning on the table—much to Goro’s displeasure. _His posture is still horrible._

“Why, whatever could you mean?” Goro’s singsong voice does not go unnoticed. There’s a pout to Akira’s lips. 

“You’re so full of shit.” 

“Are you bothered? I thought you liked me being well dressed.” Goro purrs. 

“Oh I do.” He chuckles. “Just not when I’m trying to get your clothes _off_ of you.”

“As if I’d make this easy for you.” That must have not been the right thing to say, Goro’s hindsight says. Akira’s gaze is leveling and challenging.

“Babe, what would be the fun if you didn’t give me a run for my money?”

“So wait then.” Goro says flatly. 

“You’re not even putting on a show though.” Akira whines. 

“I’m sorry. I think this is rather educational, considering you never fold the laundry right to begin with.” Akira clicks his tongue.

“I do too.” It sounds defensive and a little small. Goro snorts.

“You’re right. My apologies. The entire sock drawer that doesn’t match would also like a word.” Akira simply pouts and lets his fringe fall farther in front of his eyes. Goro doesn’t wait for his response beyond that. 

Goro reaches down for his belt, pulls it out the loops, and lays it next to his squared jacket and shirt. His pants hang low on his hips and Goro doesn’t need to turn around and confirm Akira’s attention. He can feel the gaze of his audience as he’s opening his zipper.

“Like what you see?” Goro opens his pants and hooks his thumb to push them down to his feet. He steps out and this time, he toes them towards the pile of forming clothes. 

“Always.” It sounds breathless and there’s a small flush Goro knows comes to his cheeks. He doesn’t respond, instead presses under the waistband of his final line of clothing and bends over as it falls down his legs. 

Akira makes a small huff behind him, knowing full well the view he has. Goro hums and finally turns back to him.

“Satisfied?” 

“Oh, we’re not done.” Akira drums his fingers on the side of the billiards table. Goro hums for him to continue. 

“This isn’t really a…competition with me per say.” 

“You’re stalling.” Goro observes. 

“Since you love to show off, think you can play 9 by yourself like that?” Akira reaches out and spins a ball on the table. His eyes don’t leave Goro though. 

“Really, this is the best you can come up with?” It’s rhetorical, mainly because he knows Akira isn’t going to give him a response. He’s just going to look at him with that grin that says _yes._

“Fine then.” It’s groaned. 

Akira racks the balls while Goro gets a stick. He ‘tchs’ under his breath while weighing each and making his pick. In the back of his mind though, Goro knows Akira is up to something. Part of him is pretty sure he knows exactly what, but he gives Akira the benefit of the doubt.

When he turns on his heel and sees Akira’s weighted gaze, the grey of his eyes nearly swallowed in the darkness of his pupils, Goro rolls his eyes.

Correction, no doubt needed. 

Still, he leans over the table and sets up his cue ball for the break. It strikes loudly and ruins the ongoing melody playing from the jukebox in the corner. 

Goro manages to knock the 2 and 7 into a pocket. He lets a smirk knowingly come to his face in an unabashed show of pride. To his side, Akira whistles.

“You’re so easily impressed.” Goro says as if it is something to not be proud of.

“And you’re _so_ modest.” Akira chirps, his fingers playing with the edge of the table and he sucks up his lower lip behind his teeth to hide a fond chuckle. Goro ignores him, opting to begin assessing where he needs to line himself to hit the 1. 

It’s an easy shot. The 1 ending up around a corner pocket that makes it easy for Goro to position. He just needs to be careful about the force he uses, in case he gets the cue ball accidentally to pocket to. 

He walks around the table and places the stick on the table to help with the angle. As he begins to adjust himself for the shot, arms hug him from behind. 

“Wh--..what are you doing?” His voice is curious more than anything. 

“Distracting.” Akira sounds like he’s practically singing with how melodic he responds. 

“Really this is the best you have?” Goro clicks his tongue. 

“Don’t rush it. You still have a game to play.” It’s said with a threat and Goro rolls his eyes. 

“Sure, fine.” He lets his neck get more soft kisses before striking the cue, hearing the 1 ball fall into place. The cue ball sits right at the edge of the pocket, but doesn’t fall in. 

“Oh almost slipping this early?” Akira teases. His hands begin to feel the muscles in Goro’s stomach and he ignores the swirl it makes him feel. More than that, did he really think so little of him? 

“Not on your life, Joker _._ ” It’s supposed to come out as teasing as well, but there’s a bite on it. Goro hates that it tumbled out.

He pulls away from Akira and walks around for the next ball. Since 2 went in from the break, 3 is up and lucky for him, 4 is in an easy enough position for some style points. Goro lets a smirk come to his face and begins to angle himself.

And then Akira walks up behind him again and drags his tongue down Goro’s neck. He shudders.

“Is this the recurring theme?” Goro isn’t even sure why he asked, he knew what he was signing up for the moment he stripped and agreed to--to, _whatever_ Akira had planned. 

“Yup.” He pops his ‘p’ and continues. His tongue circling and his lips eventually pressing into where his neck meets his shoulder. There’s a tug, and teeth meet his skin.

He gulps. A familiar feeling oozing into his gut and down to his groin.

Goro presses past it, letting the stick smack onto the table loudly--shit. Goro can practically feel the smile on Akira’s lips as he sucks his mark into him. Goro doesn’t respond, but he feels the heat bloom from his momentary embarrassment. The fact that he’s _married_ and Akira can still do this to him--Goro is also just as much of a fool.

There’s a movement--the cue flies across the table with force. The cue smacks into the 3. Then it smacks into the 4 and their angle causes them to veer into opposite corner pockets. Goro lets a chuckle out of him.

“Clearly not as good as you think it is.” 

  
  


Akira makes sure he’s in Goro’s vision. His hand travels down intendingly down his front, feeling the bumps of his abs and grips at the edge of his shirt. One hand begins to unbutton his shirt. The other reaches up, ruffling his untamable curls. Underneath the moving locks, steel eyes dance in the light and let their 

Goro watches. He isn’t sure what he looks like, but a crooked smirk comes onto Akira’s features. He has a dimple on the right side that puckers more than the left. It should be, but it makes something primal bubble into Goro. 

Akira’s shirt opens, but he leaves it on his shoulders. Instead, his hand continues to trace patterns along his abdomen, trailing down and down until it comes to play at the edge of his pants. His other hand falls to hold his pants in place, while the other pops open the button. 

“Like what you see?” Akira references. His voice has the same lit to it that Goro used earlier and Goro’s brain is trying to come up with a witty response. To deny, to look back at the table before him but Akira is too demanding for him to do that. Instead, he swallows visibly and Akira’s lips open to show teeth in his smirk. 

“Good, good.” His zipper opens, the bulge of his underwear noticeable even from across the way. He doesn’t let them fall just yet though. Akira’s hand reaches in, and cups himself over his underwear. A low sound comes from his throat, his teeth biting at his lower lip. His eyes squint in pleasure, but they don’t leave Goro, not for a second.

He’s frozen. 

Akira doesn’t let that linger for long though. In a swift movement, he hooks his thumb under both bands and pushes down the entirety of his clothes. His cock springs up from their confines against his stomach and Akira brings a hand over himself, gripping the base and dragging up roughly. 

There’s a groan on Akira’s lips as his eyes travel down Goro’s form. They look at Goro’s hip and trail back up to him. It makes a sensation Goro can’t feel, a ghost of a touch across his skin. Akira’s hand falls from his dick to balls and rolls them, his cock bouncing while his hips also press forward. 

_Shit._ Goro wills himself to look down, but that unseen feeling of Akira’s gaze is still on him. Goro’s body turns a bit robotic, his posture rigid and limbs snapping too quickly. He lines himself up and shoots the 5 without much thought. He doesn’t look to even confirm he got it in before already moving around to where the 6 is. The _clack_ of it falling echoes and Goro feels cotton in his throat. 

Except for when he finally got into the right spot for the next, there was a puff against him and Goro freezes up.

“What are you doing?” 

“Oh, nothing,” Akira said in a melodic voice, “just make your shot.” 

The smack of Akira’s lips and the wet noises were so loud Goro feels like he feels reverberate to his bones in a shiver. His one leg raised up on the side of the pool table trembled in need. There were goosebumps pebbling across his forearms as the rolling of heat under his skin bubbles. Goro’s teeth came down roughly on his bottom lip because _really,_ this is how he wants to play?

“Are you entertained?” He’s surprised his voice has this much conviction. There’s a swirl against his hole and a quick kiss, before Akira’s hot breath disappears from him.

“Yes actually, but you said you were good despite _all_ distractions.” Akira mocks. 

There’s a moment where Goro remembers a long time ago when he first met Akira. Before he’s the man kneeling before him like he was something precious. Back to when his only thoughts were those of suspicion and doubt. The first time he saw Akira at Leblanc with hunched shoulders below the low lighting. The first time he saw Joker in the Metaverse with that cocky grin that _asked_ to be messed with. 

Goro used to wonder which mask was the real one, quiet Akira or zealous Joker. Instead, he found that the both of them blurred together, sometimes a bit too well.

That glimmer currently in his eyes is Joker’s. The smile that comes to his lips crooked is Akira’s though.

“You’re ridiculous.” Now Goro’s voice has a slight quiver. His throat closes after he mutters. His teeth sucking hard on his lower lip to not let anything past because if Akira thinks he’s going to get him to break that easy, _he’s wrong._

“And you’re delicious.” It’s said so matter of fact it’s absolutely _stupid_. Before Goro can say anything back, there’s heat against his perineum again. Goro shudders, but lines up his cue. 

He has the 6 next to pocket. Goro blinks a few times to make himself focus. The 8 is unfortunately between his cue ball and the 6 for the shot. Goro can either attempt to make it hop over, or bank the shot off the side to hopefully hit it. He gulps and leans further over the table. Akira hums against him in praise and scoots even closer. 

_God damn it._ Hitting the ball to jump is out of the question with how his mind is fogging up. His breath is beginning to become uneven and shorter. Goro lines up the shot for the wall and licks his lips. He exhales roughly through his nose to try and relax himself. As if that would do anything with the current situation. 

The stick hits and for a brief moment, Goro doesn’t know what happens. His heart is hammering and he lets a moan tumble past his lips. There’s a responding groan from behind him. It leaves him breathless.

“Well?” It’s a deep husky note. Goro shakes his head, his hair sticking slightly to his forehead. When did he start sweating? He sighs and notices the cue ball dangerously close to a pocket, but the 5 is missing off the table.

“8 is next.” Good enough confirmation. Goro, with all the self restraint in the world, drops his leg back down and Akira backs up, allowing him to move. Out of the corner of his eye, Goro can see the flush of his face. He also ignores the wetness that’s beginning to trickle out down the back of his thigh. 

It feels obscene and Goro feels so… _vulnerable._

He looks back to the table, the cold air making the trail on his leg even more noticeable and walks around to the otherside. The 8 in a good position for a straight shot, similar to the 1. 

When he gets to the spot he wants, there are suddenly soft fingers prodding at him and Goro huffs. The two remaining balls on the table are glaring at him while Akira’s hot breath scalded his ear.

“What are you waiting for?” Goro breathes. A finger presses in, cold with lube that Goro couldn’t figure out when Akira even had the moment to get it. It curls and Goro huffs in response.

“To see if you slip up.” Akira responds. He sounds so smug Goro lets out a noise of displeasure. 

“You really do think too little of me. After all this time?” With fingers in his ass, Goro rolls his weight forward on his ankle, letting him fall forward onto the table to shoot for the 8. 

“I never do honey.” Akira says. There’s such an undertone of adoration in it that Goro swallows down. His focus is hard for a second on the green felt of the table, the way there’s a stain from someone else who used the table and most likely spilled their bourbon. 

A second finger joins the first. Prodding and scissoring him as he begins to stretch. Goro lets the familiar wave of arousal come over him, the sting of it sending a thrill that leaves goosebumps along his body. 

He lets the cue smack roughly---way too much force his mind supplies a second too late. Goro watches the cue zip across the table, and a third finger presses in him as the 8 falls into the pocket. There’s a noise forced out of him. The cue ball spins and slows in a position Goro hadn’t intended it to fall. 

Akira lets him indulge in the feeling a bit longer. His fingers curl inside Goro and spread, not quite reaching the place that would itch Goro’s need. They still tease though, and Goro tenses and ebbs the sensation Akira gives him. 

All too soon it’s gone. A whine echoes to Akira and he chuckles, but steps back. Goro has one more to pocket before he wins. 

With a trembling body, he pushes off the table and looks at the cue ball. It’s nowhere near where he wanted it and the angle is _awful_ to try and pocket the 9 in one go. His brain is racking, one part of him lulled and slowed from how turned on he is, and the other is calculating and competitive. Trying to figure out the best place of action. There’s too much---far too much in his head. Goro swallows, his feet coming down too hard on the floor. 

“You gotta call a pocket for the 9.” Akira says with a bit too much breath.

“That’s the rules for _8 ball_ Akira. Not 9.” Goro chastises. Akira chuckles.

“Don’t matter, new rule. Unless you think you can’t?” Akira knows exactly how to push Goro’s buttons, by insisting he isn’t capable of doing something and sizing him up. Goro always falls for it and it’s so stupid--

He looks to the table and back to Akira. He nods. _Fine then._

Before Goro could assess which pocket to call for the 9, there was a soft ‘wait’ right by him.

Akira had reached over and softly let his fingertips trace down Goro’s cheek to his chin. They turned his face back to Akira and he gently pressed his lips to Goro’s.

His eyes fluttered closed naturally as his brain short circuited. The entire build up to this scene was met with heated breaths, scorching touches, and prep for Akira to press in rough and have his way with Goro as he tried to make the final shot.

Instead, Akira was softly kissing Goro, one hand trailed down from his chin to his side, causing Goro to turn and his back be pressed against the table. Akira’s hands went back up, cupping Goro’s cheeks and the thumbs rolling along the skin. 

Goro felt goosebumps bubble up across him. His own hands reached for Akira’s waist and then curved up from his sides to run to his chest. Akira let out an exhale through his nose, pulling back with foreheads pressing together.

“Sorry,” he said barely there, “you were just...” Akira licked his lips, his grey eyes flickering across the dusted freckles along the bridge of Goro’s nose. There was a hint of pink on his face.

“Akira…” Even years later, Goro was sometimes bad at talking through intimacy. He could easily plaster on smiles and flowery words for any other situation. It didn’t matter how uncomfortable he might have felt underneath the thick layer of his facade he built up. In moments like this however? His heart was squeezing and the words refused to tumble out of his throat. He swallowed hard against the feeling, Akira’s eyes flickered to the motion. 

It was silly. They had been dating for years before this. It took so much convincing from even Akira when the moment came for him to propose. Goro had gone defensive, saying that Akira shouldn’t want to tie himself down to this. It caused a fight; he remembers briefly how furious Akira had gotten because Goro had honestly thought that Akira would grow up and out of this. Out of the rivalry, out of the notion that Goro is alive and no longer needs saving.

He could probably count on his hands how many times he had seen Akira cry. That was one of them, and probably the worst. Goro never knew you could break someone’s heart like that. 

Still, here they were. Everything, literally everything set in their path of dominos destined to tumble and fall against one another. Never this outcome, never together. There were thousands of kisses, breathless moments, and intimacy they’ve shared since. Goro still feels cotton in his throat because of Akira’s unconditional feelings.

There was no one like him. He proves it daily. 

So Goro doesn’t use his words. He presses back forward, recapturing Akira’s lips for the thousandth and one time. He feels how they slot together, how underneath his palms, Akira’s heart is stuttering too. How Akira’s hands begin to tremble and as if Goro would disappear in a moment and the spell would be broken. 

When he pulls back and looks at Akira, his eyes are glassy. 

“I love you.” It’s one of the hardest truths Goro had learned to accept and embrace. Not because of denial, but because he never deserved it. Akira’s inhale is shaky. 

“I love you too.” There’s no hesitation or doubt.

“I still have a competition to win.” Goro lets a sly smirk come to him and Akira blinks, glass replaced with charcoal that’s ready to burn. 

“You’re right. Call your shot.” Goro turns and repositions himself by the cue. Not a straight shot again unfortunately. He’s going to have to bank to land in the corner pocket. He calls it. 

His mind was still foggy from before, so when he leans over the table to try and make the shot, Goro flinches when hands cup his side and thigh. It raises up his leg back to the table, and there’s a press against him undeniably.

A final challenge then. 

“Think you can make it?” Goro hears the last chance Akira gives him. 

“Do your worst.” As if that would change anything.

There’s a small discomfort when Akira presses into him. It’s gradual and slow, as his rim stretches across the head of Akira’s dick. Behind him, Akira releases a shuddering breath and Goro, with his own heat blooming in his chest and pleasure taking hold, feels so _smug_ about the fact that Akira is just as desperate as he always is. 

Because it’s never enough. They’re both selfish.

Beyond the initial push, the rest of Akira slides in easily and once again, Goro notes how they fit together. He feels so full he could burst, the hard thrum of his heart against his ribs trying to escape as if it would find solace anywhere but here. He doesn’t realize his arms were shaking and supporting his weight on the table, until the hand that was on his waist runs past his stomach and an arm encircles him. Akira holds him, and then pulls his hips back. 

Goro groaned as his hips met Akira’s again more roughly. The scorching heat felt like an inferno that begged to be fanned and quelled at the same time. The sounds of them coming together were echoing off the empty venue. 

“Ah…ngh,” Goro stumbled, and tried again, “Akira.” Behind him, there was a hum, his thrusts not stopping.

“Is that all you got?” It should sound laughable with how weak Goro already sounded, but it works. Akira stutters behind him, and then there was a chuckle that was dangerous.

“Never.” 

“Never get enough of you.” Goro barely registered it over the pounding in his ears and them fucking. 

“I know—I know.” Mindless chatter, but Akira knew it was honest. 

“Never close enough—I just want,” There’s a pause as Akira slows his thrusts to a drag, and Goro hisses beneath him in frustration, “I just want…forever.” 

“You have it, who else would there be?” Goro turns his head, his wine eyes meeting steel. “So take it.” 

Akira grips into his thigh hard enough to bruise, and the arm that encircled Goro’s hip becomes a vice. He pulls and pushes Goro in and out of his thrusts and lets his hips roughly slam against Goro’s. Goro lets out a keen of approval and melts against the feeling. 

All too fast, Akira stops though, his hips pressed tightly against Goro. A whine escapes past his lips, and he tries to move himself back into Akira. 

“You have a shot to make still.” The haze tries to lift itself from Goro, but his body is sparked and his mind is foggy. There’s a shaky exhale that comes from him, as trembling fingers tighten on the cue stick.

“Ruh-right.” Goro leans as much as Akira’s arms let him, his palm flat on the surface. The cue stick rests along the ridge between his pointer and middle finger. A few experimental pull backs to get the strength right. 

Except Akira begins to move again and Goro lets out a dragged moan. _God damnit._ Of course it wouldn’t be easy. 

Still, he bites down hard on his lip. He tenses himself up in an attempt to concentrate. The harsh drag of Akira’s length is demanding his attention though and Goro begins to struggle for something to focus on _other_ than his ridiculous husband. The green of the billiards table. The cold floor beneath the soles of his feet. 

The goosebumps along Akira’s arms. His hot breath along his neck. The sweat beginning to form in the crevice between their bodies along Akira’s chest.

_Fuck._ It’s not working. Goro squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and his moan turns into a sound of absolute frustration. Akira lets a laugh out. 

“Should’ve done this sooner.” His voice is---Goro doesn’t think about it. Doesn’t entertain the idea of even giving Akira a response despite his body begging for more. He opens his eyes, vision blurred at the edges, and continues to align the cue. 

“This is how I’d win. Who would’ve thought?” His hand pushes Goro into the table, makes sure Akira is the one in control of their momentum and builds up. Goro can’t push back. 

There’s a resounding _smack_ as Goro lets the cue finally go. The ball strikes the 9, and it bounces off the side, and Goro misjudges the angle. It doesn’t ride along the side to the corner pocket like he intended. 

But it does bounce back and land in the center. He didn’t call the shot right but it pocketed. 

Goro drops the cue on the table. One hand coming up to let his fingers fit into Akira’s arm. The other is clenching on the end of the wood. 

“I-” He cuts off quickly. Akira suddenly pulls away, with Goro’s nails leaving harsh pink lines along his forearm. He pulls at Goro, turns him around so his back begins to dig uncomfortably into the edge. 

They’ve done this so many times, Goro doesn’t ask. His body knows, pushing himself up further onto the table, until his body is laying on top of it. Akira leans over him, the glisten along his brow line causing his fringe to stick to his forehead. His eyes are dark, and he licks his lips hungrily above Goro. He swallows, spreading himself and letting his own heat come forward.

“Come on then.” Goro’s legs wrap around Akira’s hips. He lets out a small groan and repositions himself. His head slowly pressing back in, warmth spreading to all of Goro immediately that makes him shudder.

“Yes, just like that.” Goro sighs.

“God I just--you’re so-- _beautiful._ ” A shot of electricity zips along Goro and buzzes to his chest. He lets out a keen and pushes himself into Akira’s slow thrusts. His hips stutter but press back rough. Goro practically purrs. 

He doesn’t respond. Instead opting to let his hips roll along Akira’s, his eyes fluttering, a punch of air being forced out of him. Akira’s dick grazes against the part of him that makes stars behind his eyelids, and Goro loves everytime it happens. Because this moment is his, each time it happens it’s his. Akira is his just as much as he is. The exhale turns into a whine and Goro lets the rhythm pick up.

Akira’s firm hands grab at his hips, finally understanding. He lets their climax build roughly. The slap of skin becomes louder, sounding over the white noise in Goro’s head. His mouth opens, and---and he doesn’t know what kind of noises he’s making but Akira _growls_ above him. 

_God, god_ ** _please._** The feeling gets hot, the stars bursting on their edges into fireworks and Akira’s mouth is suddenly at his neck. There’s teeth pressing roughly into his skin, _claiming_ , and Goro screams as a wet heat spurts onto his chest. 

Akira’s movements don’t stop, they continue to pound past Goro’s orgasm, his body tight and coiled for the moment of his release as Akira chases his own. It’s not long, a soft, high pitched groan breaks the daze Goro is currently in, and heat pours into him. 

There’s nothing for a moment. A suspended feeling where time is still, and they’re one. Goro never felt so perfect in his life, except for these moments. The ones where a hero breaks and worships Goro like he’s worth the world. 

A shattered boy who finds solace in everything he envied and now adores. 

It’s broken when Akira begins to pull away, an uncomfortable sensation as the warmth from where he was is filled with the cold of the room. He goes to the counter, grabbing paper towels, and comes back to Goro. He softly wipes along him and cleans him.

Goro’s vision swims back when Akira comes back after getting rid of the towels. He hoists himself up on the table as well, curling into Goro’s back. It’s ridiculous and _perfect._

“You know.” Akira begins. His voice returns to normal, but his breathing is still hot and puffing unevenly. Goro lets out a soft hum. 

**_Fill my heart with song._ **The music is slow and drawn. Goro is finally hearing it over the thrum of his heartbeat in his ear drums.

“You didn’t land it in the right one.” He says it matter-of-factly. Goro lets one of his hands lazily trailing along the planes of Akira pinch him. He lets out a squeak.

**_You are all I long for._ **“And you are absurd for even putting me up to this. At least I got it in.” He’s being a poor sport. Goro knows he didn’t technically win at the challenge and it does gnaw at him. But then again, could Akira even do the challenge?

**_All I worship and adore._ **“What, you want me to?” Oh, he was thinking out loud. Goro snorts loudly, the noise completely unattractive, but Akira beams like it’s the nicest thing. “I bet I could.” 

**_In other words. Please be true_ **“I bet you’d make a fool of yourself and I’d look like a billiards champion.” 

**_In other words..._ **“Next time then.” The promise of a next time. The promise that there are always more times between them leaves Goro’s heart squeezing. 

**** “Next time.” 

**_I love you._ **

**Author's Note:**

> Music Credits: 
> 
> I’ll Be Seeing You - Frank Sinatra
> 
> Fly Me To The Moon - Brenda Lee


End file.
